


How You Do It

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy), Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/M, Light Show, M/M, Multi, Other, Pollination, Powerlinx, Weird Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend of mine wrote a clear and concise summary of the main types of robot sex. (Here: http://boltstuck.tumblr.com/FAQ )</p><p>So naturally I tried to think of a few ways robots could fuck that fall outside those lines. This is the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How You Do It

Jetfire transformed, taking Optimus’s connection in one smooth motion, taking the weight of his body onto himself and thrusting into the air.

“Jet Convoy, transform!” Optimus cried as they joined, one seamless being, one creature of ecstasy, energy pulsing around them as the power that would be used for combat turned inward, coursing through their circuits as pleasure.

Jetfire – if there were a Jetfire now – moved as Optimus directed him, with only a picosecond gap between thought and action, as much Optimus’s as his own chassis. Jet Convoy arched his back, moaning and throwing his hands behind his head as he climaxed.

***

There was a low, rhythmic buzz coming from the lower room.

_thump-thump-WHIRR thump-thump-WHIRR Oontz Oontz Oontz Oontz_

“Oh Trion, yes,” Rodimus said. He made his way down to the subbasement, hoping fervently that this session was open invitation. It had been a bad week, and he was dying for some joy. He wasn’t disappointed; the door slid open easily to reveal a small group of mechs seated on bunks that had been pushed to the side, making room for the main attraction.

Munka Spenka was in full splendor, blue lights dancing on the walls, bass driving so low Rodimus could feel it in his chest. He spared a thought of happy surprise. Munka Spenka hadn’t put on a show since his reformat, back before the slaughter when he was Jazz. And then the music took him over and he didn’t think at all.

_Oontz Oontz Oontz Oontz_

He moaned as the sound and light washed over him, and was drowned out completely. He fell onto a bunk next to a writhing mass of Springcee, lost in the pleasure.

He shivered as the harmonics built higher and faster, pulsing pink flashes added to the blue. The pulse in his chest spread down his arms, warming his body from the inside. He lay down, submitting to the experience. Munka was a master, he could keep them here all night if he wanted. Rodimus couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.

***

The day was warm and fine. Perceptor found himself uncharacteristically relaxed, sprawling on the ground outside the Ark. Energy streamed down from Earth’s young and lively sun and pulsed in waves from the warm volcano.

He sighed in contentment. He hadn’t felt so satisfied in millennia. All systems nominal, energy reserves full.

“Oh!” He startled as he started to transform without a conscious command. Most of his body became a stable base, and long-disused panels unfurled from his top, translucent red and teal casting bright shadows on the ground. He sighed as a sense of fulfillment coursed through him, the sun’s energy coaxing his pistils to extend. He felt the long-forgotten stir of his reproductive nanites building inside him, rising along with his joy.

Before he lost conscious thought, he sent a message to their human allies to wear dust masks on the base. He wouldn’t be the only one pollinating, and particulate metal was at best inhospitable to organic lungs.


End file.
